


Sweet Sunrise

by mistressteacup



Category: Anthropomorfic, Internet & Social Media (Anthropomorfic)
Genre: F/F, Humor, Ice Cream, Sexy Times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-10
Updated: 2012-10-10
Packaged: 2017-11-16 00:53:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/533679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistressteacup/pseuds/mistressteacup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And Twitter’s laughing, heart free, flying along the street, as she smiles and smiles, as Tumblr’s fingers tighten around hers and she’s pulled and pushed against a wall. As cold brick seeps through the back of her shirt, and Tumblr presses against her, hand dragging along her waist, cold from the ice cream.</p><p>Or Twitter and Tumblr go get ice cream. \o/</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Sunrise

There’s a knock on the door, light and flighty, distracting Twitter from the soft chirping outside her window.  
  
“Come in!” Twitter calls, unable to pull herself away from the window, away from the sweet, little birds singing along the windowsill.  
  
There’s a quiet giggle, smattering of footsteps, and then someone is on her back, legs wrapped around Twitter’s waist.  
  
“Hey, Tumblr,” Twitter says, Tumblr’s light curls laid out over Twitter’s shoulders, soft strands of hair curling along her neck.  
  
“We should go get ice cream,” Tumblr says, and her voice is quiet, muffled in Twitter’s neck as she bites down on it playfully.  
  
Twitter startles a little, surprised, even though she's used to the feel of Tumblr, of her teeth along her throat, her weight along her back, and lets her hands tighten along Tumblr’s thighs, “We have ice cream?”  
  
“I thought we could go out for some,” Tumblr says, giggling softly as she swings her legs, brushing along Twitter’s sides. “Won’t you come with me?”  
  
Glancing at the birds, Twitter pauses for a moment, and Tumblr pouts, eyes wide as she blinks sadly at Twitter, “Come on. Don’t you love me anymore?” And she sniffs dramatically.  
  
“Alright, alright,” Twitter says and shakes her head, smiles, “Lead the way.”  
  
Tumblr lets out a happy cry, wrapping her arms tightly around Twitter’s neck, “Score! Let’s go, my lovely companion.”  
  
And Twitter smiles, walking carefully across the room.  
  
Tumblr grins, eyes bright, as she curls around Twitter’s head, licking her forehead playfully. “Hi,” she says happily as she glances down Twitter’s nose.  
  
“Hi,” Twitter says fondly, wrinkling a smile at her, “Point the way?”  
  
“You don’t know where the ice cream place is?” Tumblr pouts, closing her eyes against Twitter’s hair. “Unfair.”  
  
“Unfair?” Twitter smiles, “Who’s carrying who here?”  
  
But Tumblr just rubs her cheek against Twitter’s, “You know you love me.”  
  
Twitter huffs out a laugh, arms tight around Tumblr’s legs as she maneuvers outside the building. The air is warm, heavy against her skin, the sun bright and beaming in the sky. “Which way?” She says, and it’s tempered by the heat, by the soft sweetness of a new day shining in the sky.  
  
“That a’way,” Tumblr says, grinning, motioning to the right as she lets herself relax into Twitter’s embrace, “I won’t lead you wrong, promise.” And she nuzzles against Twitter’s neck, “I got your back, Jack.”  
  
Twitter smiles, a blush curling along her cheeks as she ducks her head downward, turning to follow Tumblr’s directions.  
  
“Hey, guys,” Someone calls from behind them, voice high and lilting.  
  
Twitter turns, Tumblr bobbing along on her back, as the girl comes up to join them, smile bright and sweet. “Facebook,” Tumblr says with a grin, leaning forward recklessly and kissing Facebook’s cheek. “We’re getting ice cream. You should come,” she says as Twitter stumbles in her attempt to hold Tumblr’s weight.  
  
Facebook smiles, tilting her head to the side sweetly, “Sounds like fun.”  
  
“Then, come! The more the merrier,” Tumblr says, grinning as she hops off Twitter’s back, taking hold of Twitter’s and Facebook’s hands happily as she swings them. “Ice cream is for everyone.”  
  
Twitter smiles, glancing over at Facebook who grins widely back, heels clicking easily against the sidewalk.  
  
~  
  
Facebook is always fun, always sweet and kind, even if she doesn’t always see everything that’s going on. Even if she doesn’t really see the way Twitter’s hand is clasped around Tumblr’s beneath the table or the way Tumblr has that glint in her eye, that quiet knowledge, that desire to change something.  
  
And maybe it’s just that they live together now, but Twitter can see the mischief in Tumblr’s eyes, the playfulness. Twitter sees the way Tumblr glances at her, eyes bright and dancing before looking back to Facebook, hand vibrating beneath the table.  
  
And Facebook’s grinning and laughing, hands dainty and proper along the spoon as she carefully eats her ice cream.  
  
It’s a little fascinating how she doesn’t see the wickedness in Tumblr’s smile.  
  
~  
  
Facebook doesn’t stay long, leaving after ice cream, waving sweetly as she bounces along the pavement. She has somewhere to go, some people want to hang out, but it was nice seeing them. It’s always nice seeing them.  
  
And she takes out her phone, pulling them all together before grinning widely for the camera, and kissing their cheeks, disappearing along the street.  
  
She has to go, but it’s fine, because Tumblr grabs Twitter’s hand tightly and grins at her, pulling her along the sidewalk in the other direction, passing through the almost-empty street with ease until she finds it. A dark spot hidden between the crevices of stores and restaurants, the wall empty and cold in the darkness.  
  
And Twitter’s laughing, heart free, flying along the street, as she smiles and smiles, as Tumblr’s fingers tighten around hers and she’s pulled and pushed against a wall. As cold brick seeps through the back of her shirt, and Tumblr presses against her, hand dragging along her waist, cold from the ice cream.  
  
Tumblr grins, bright and happy, just standing there for a moment, watching Twitter. “Hi,” she says, letting her hand press against the softness of Twitter’s skin.  
  
Twitter smiles, hands scratching along the brick wall behind her, “Hi.”  
  
And Tumblr laughs, pressing closer, until Tumblr’s leg is pressed between Twitter’s, until she can feel Twitter, hot along her thigh, burning through clothing, “You happy?” Tumblr asks, as she presses her face against Twitter’s neck.  
  
Twitter nods, bringing her hand up to cradle the back of Tumblr’s head. “Yeah,” she says and it’s a little breathless, a little hazy.  
  
Tumblr smiles, grins really, as she lets herself lick, teeth scraping against soft skin, hoping to make it red, make it burn. “Do you think people can see us here?” She says, and her voice is low, just a bit muffled, just a little lost in Twitter’s skin.  
  
Twitter pulls against the wall, glancing to the side, the empty street colored by the setting sun. “Yeah,” she says, and suddenly her gaze is glued to the sidewalk, to the people who may walk by at any moment. And everything’s darker, intimate, something burning inside her and making her want to press against Tumblr, to find herself in the soft silence of the alley.  
  
“They’d know,” Tumblr says, laughing against Twitter’s neck as she bites down, deep and dark, “that you’re mine. No one would ever wonder again. I could write my name on you, make it stay forever. We’d be set.” She says licks along the marks, soothing them with sweet movements. “Everyone would know,” she says.  
  
And Twitter burns, face hot, as she glances downward, breath labored, sneaking past the tightening of her chest.  
  
“It could be a game,” Tumblr says, dragging her teeth along the line of Twitter’s throat, “Would you like that? I could show you off, make people guess how many you have, how many marks I’ve given you. And whoever gets closest could touch one of them. Just one.”  
  
Twitter closes her eyes, face still red, as she grinds down on Tumblr’s leg restlessly, something anxious inside her, almost as though she wants to leave, wants to get away, but she can’t, she doesn’t want to. Not really. She wants to stay here, something squirming inside her, until all she can hear are Tumblr’s words and all she can feel is Tumblr’s hands pressing against the buttons of her jeans.  
  
Dropping to her knees, Tumblr glances up at Twitter, grin bright as she presses her thumb against the hollows of Twitter’s hips. “What if I marked you here? What if I made you red and bright and no one could see it but me? Just me,” she murmurs and presses her teeth against the spot, closing over her own thumb, soft and wet.  
  
Twitter makes a noise, almost shaking, as Tumblr moves her thumb to press her teeth tightly against the skin, as she leaves a perfect set of marks, branded along Twitter’s waist.  
  
“Just for me, yeah?” And Tumblr smiles, moving away and brushing her thumb against the indentations.  
  
And Tumblr’s always liked to talk, she’s always liked to run into a room, feet wild and happy along the ground, as she talks about her day (about the perfect cloud ballerina she saw in the sky on the way to work, and the girl who works in the cubicle next to her who always listens to running water), spending hours going through the reasons why this day was special, why the way the sun shone on her skin felt sweet and precious.  
  
And Twitter gets caught up in it, she always has, in the way Tumblr makes the world sound beautiful, like she sees the world as a gift.  
  
But when Tumblr’s down there, when she’s glancing up at Twitter and her eyes are dark and there’s still that smile, that smile that makes everything more beautiful, Twitter knows this is hers. That the way Tumblr’s voice gets whispery and soft is all hers. That she’s the only one who knows Tumblr like this.  
  
And it burns inside her, makes her wrap her fingers in Tumblr’s soft curls and hold her tight, even as Tumblr pulls down Twitter’s pants (just enough, just enough so it could still be innocent, still be forgotten) and presses her mouth hotly against the thin fabric of her underwear.  
  
Even knowing that they’re in public, even knowing that Tumblr wants to show her off, with Tumblr talking about how everyone will see, how everyone will know tomorrow, even though they can’t, they shouldn’t.  
  
But it’s in her head now, and she can see the stares, see the way people glance at her up and down, even knowing that she’s already spoken for, even knowing that someone has always marked her as their own.  
  
And when the flat of Tumblr’s tongue presses against the crease of Twitter’s vagina, hot and wet even as the cotton of her underwear pulls against the skin, Twitter feels herself wilt against the brick wall, knees suddenly bent and Tumblr’s hands pressed against her thighs the only thing holding her up.  
  
“Tumblr,” she says, and it’s almost too quiet to be heard, almost too quiet to be anything, but Tumblr glances upwards and smiles, fingers soft against Twitter’s thighs.  
  
And Tumblr’s still looking up when she finds Twitter’s clit through the fabric and sucks, bright and sharp against the strain of standing there, of forcing herself to stay up (she can’t fall, she can’t), and one of Tumblr’s hands presses against the crease, pushing aside her panties and pressing in, suddenly, sharply, finger engulfed in warmth.  
  
Twitter makes a noise, quiet and panicky in the alley, nervous against the darkness. And she can feel that thing, that brightness behind her eyes, that desperation, that knowledge, that she’s almost there. That there’s something rushing through her veins and she’s almost —  
  
Tumblr scratches her teeth against the fabric, sharp and unyielding, and Twitter’s face burns as her panties grow wet, damp against her skin.  
  
And Tumblr pulls away, moving upward to kiss Twitter, desperate and quick, teeth clacking and loud in the silence, as Twitter presses her hand against Tumblr’s skin, melting into the brick wall, breaths coming soft and long.  
  
The wet of Twitter’s underwear presses against Tumblr’s hand trapped between them, and Tumblr straddles Twitter’s thigh, pushing against it in fast, short strokes, rubbing up and down, the denim rough against her skin, hot, the remains of Twitter’s arousal spreading across her jeans, until they’re just breathing into each other’s mouths, Twitter soft and lethargic against Tumblr’s frantic movements. And Twitter’s fingers clench at Tumblr’s sides, nails digging in tightly, leaving half moons, as she leans heavily against the brick wall.  
  
“Tumblr,” she says, soft and desperate, needing to know that Tumblr’s there with her, that she can feel this too.  
  
And then Tumblr’s coming, collapsing against Twitter, and pressing close, the open zipper of Twitter’s jeans pressing against her skin as her shirt rides up.  
  
Burying her head in Twitter’s neck, Tumblr breathes, the quiet around them soft and sweet, dark and longing, as she tastes Twitter on her breath, the remains of her sticking to the backs of her teeth and the top of her mouth so she can taste it, so she can feel it with every breath she takes. Every swallow catching just a bit more of that taste.  
  
And when the minutes have passed, when Tumblr can bring herself back up, she kisses Twitter’s neck, sweet and warm, and pushes herself up to look, just look, for a moment, hand brushing along Twitter’s cheek, before laughing gaily, bringing their noses together in an eskimo kiss.  
  
“I love you,” she says, and she kisses Twitter’s nose.  
  
Twitter laughs, quiet and content, and reaches forward to pull Tumblr close, “Love you too.”


End file.
